Hope
by koalabear33
Summary: A collection of one shots pertaining to Rory and Jess. What were they really thinking? Drabbles ranging from extremely short to just kind of short.
1. Chapter 1

Soul mates. Do those exist? What does that even mean? That two people love each other so much that they're willing to spend their life together? That they're just so compatible that they might as well be one person? I don't understand it. How can there be one person out there that completes you? If you were supposed to have another half you would have been born in pairs or something. How can you guarantee that you'll love someone forever? How do you know your feelings won't change? How can you guarantee happiness? It seems like such a big risk to take. And, yeah, supposedly when you find that one person it'll be worth the risk. It seems like a whole lot of pain if it doesn't work. Would all of that pain be worth it? I really don't know. Maybe it's just because I'm twenty-one and a slight cynic. Maybe slightly is underexaggerating it a little. It's because I'm young and don't know any better and haven't met anyone worth my time. Well, I thought I did...a little bit ago. But that didn't work. So if it didn't work, then obviously I'm not supposed to be with him. Case closed. Never to be opened again.

Soul mates. Yeah, we're teenagers and who we think is "the one" is really just extreme puppy love. Whatever. I've moved on from that nice hope that we would actually work it out. Nope. Yeah, we fit really well but that's just not enough. That pretty picture of us working is just a far off hope, possibly a dream, discarded long ago. We had our chance. Twice. A third does not usually come around. So why dwell on what could have been? That only disappoints you. It's better to move on.


	2. Chapter 2

A slight brushing of their hands. That's all it took to remind her. To remind her that it was impossible; that their time had come and gone. They would never get another chance. The possibility had hung in the air for a while but had come crashing down and shattered the hope. She doesn't acknowledge the slight touch. She runs that hand through her hair and walks a little more to the right - away from him - to ensure there would be no more accidental touches. No emotions are shown on her face when all she really wants to do is wrap her arms around herself and protect her from the disappointment and hurt that accompanies a dying hope.


	3. Chapter 3

"You guys are the real thing."

"Real thing, what do you mean real thing?"

Lane and I were walking around town, stalling before she had to accompany Mrs. Kim to bible study. I was just telling her the "throwing the football with a buddy and it hit my eye" incident, which I don't believe at all.

Lane looked at me with a knowing grin. "I mean I think you guys are perfect for each other, and not in the sappy teenage romance way. I know I didn't like him much at first, but he's grown on me and I see how happy he makes you, despite the occasional mishap."

I gestured for her to continue.

"I don't know, it just seems like it's something more than you had with Dean. You both know what the other is thinking, how to make each other feel better, light up when the other one is mentioned, and jump at any opportunity to talk about one another. You could spend the rest of your lives with each other if you had to choose one person right now. He has good taste in music, rivals you in number of books read, can keep up with you in an intelligent conversation, and he doesn't bore you – he keeps you on your toes, which is not always a good thing, but certainly isn't a bad thing! I just think this is real – not an angst-filled teenage romance that ends with a dramatic blow up at a town function, no offense to Dean or anything."

She looked over at me and all of a sudden it hit me. I loved him. I love Jess Mariano. Whoa.


	4. Chapter 4

"Why are you only nice to me?"

"Excuse me?"

"An hour ago you were totally screwing with Dean and now you're totally nice to me."

"You see, it's the screwing with Dean – that's an important step to getting here so that I can be nice to you."

"So it was a plan."

"What?"

"The whole bidding on my basket, it was a plan."

Crap. This girl was good. I've been so used to putting up walls and barriers and keeping everyone out and here's a person that I can just be myself around. This mix of James Dean and Jess Mariano is starting to mess with my head. Maybe I should just be honest with her. No way – screw that. I'll do what I do best: be evasive. She'll probably see through it right away. When did she get to know me so well?

"Okay, I'm officially starving"

"And officially evasive." I knew I liked this girl for a reason.

"Come on, I'll get you a pizza."

"Answer my question!"

"Do you like pepperoni?" That's it Mariano – keep on with being the cool, evasive, bad boy that drew her in. Throw in a few literary references, movie quotes, and tons of food and she'll be yours in no time.

"Not going to, are you?"

"We can just get it on half if you want."

"Okay, I give. Let's go."

"If you insist." You got this. Be cool.


	5. Chapter 5

It was one of those afternoons where Jess wasn't busy with work and I wasn't working on The Franklin or one of my college applications. We were meandering towards the bridge – our destination of choice – to read and relax. Jess was carrying a backpack, which was quite unusual. He normally just put a paperback in his back pocket and whipped it out when we got there. Despite a lot of complaining and badgering, he wouldn't tell me what was in it and simply smirked in my general direction. It was infuriating. He knows I don't do well with surprises and not knowing things. I need to know.

"Come on…one hint?" I pleaded.

"Nope."

"You are a horrible, horrible person and I don't like you."

"I can deal with that."

I sent one of my withering stares at him. He was focused on where we were going and didn't notice my piercing eyes. His loss – he still hadn't seen it since he pestered me in New York about my deadly glare.

"Just hold on one more minute. I guarantee you'll like it," he sent me a crooked smile.

"Fine," I harrumphed.

We walked to the center of the bridge. I was about to sit down when he gestured at me to remain standing. He set down his backpack and unzipped it. Finally, I was going to see what was in the mysterious bag! First came a thermos full of what I assumed was Luke's coffee – he should know that's the only thing I'd drink – then came a large maroon blanket. He opened it and spread it across our little section of the bridge. He sat atop the blanket, put the thermos within reaching-range and gestured at me to sit next to him. This was too great – it reminded me of that scene in A Walk to Remember where Shane West's character pulls the same thing when him and Mandy Moore's character were stargazing.

Knowing he probably wouldn't get the reference, I uttered, "Are you trying to seduce me?" It was the same line Mandy Moore said when Shane West pulled out the blanket. It was too fitting to pass up.

"Why, are you seducible?"

No he did not. That's the line Shane West retorts. I can't believe he's seen that movie – it's the ultimate chick flick. Mr. Ernest Hemmingway has seen A Walk to Remember. Seeing the astonished look on my face, he immediately went into defensive mode. "What? I've read Jane Austen. I can do chick flicks if necessary." It made me like him a little more. I plopped down next to him, grinning, and took out my book and started to read. This was my idea of a perfect afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

I had been idly flipping through Jess' book when he sauntered over to where I was sitting. Smiling up at him, I said, "You know why I love your book?"

"Why?" he smirked.

"It doesn't remind me of anything. It's not a rip off, it's just you." Jess is a unique individual and for him to capture that in writing was something special.

"High praise, Miss Yale Editor!" he chuckled. We fell into our regular rhythm of bantering and joking. Timeless: that's what we were. No matter what either of us had done or how much time had passed, talking about books was something that would always remain the same. It was so relaxing – I missed it. Before I knew it, we were only inches apart and Jess was leaning in. I had wanted it for a long time – another chance with Jess…with happiness. That's why I didn't pull away…why I kissed him back. It was something so familiar and beautiful it almost hurt. It was a chaste kiss with no pressure and no expectations. It was something I never had with Logan.

Logan. A pang of guilt hit me right in the gut. Even though Logan deserved this rather innocent act of infidelity, Jess didn't. It wasn't fair to him at all. With that thought, I pulled away.

"What?" he asked with his eyes still half closed.

"I'm…sorry." Great choice of words there, Gilmore. It doesn't convey nearly half of what I want it to.

"About what?" He looked a little worried and apprehensive. I had a history of kissing and running – it wasn't a foreign idea to him.

"Uh…about coming here like this!" He still looked a little wary. "I just got the flyer and I don't know, I just wanted to see your place, but then…this." I gestured between the two of us. "…it's not fair to you…I'm such a jerk." Hello, my name is Rory Gilmore and I have a problem with rambling.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

I didn't register what he said until looking back on the conversation later. I just kept spewing out words, including the ones that changed things forever. "I couldn't even cheat on him the way he cheated on me!"

"Who? Who cheated on you…that guy? Oh…you're still with him." It was almost comical the way his expression went from one of confusion to anger to resignation. It was like he knew it was coming all along.

"Yeah." It was all I could say. How do you break that kind of news to someone who waited for you for three years, gave him what he's been waiting for, then took it away from him all in a span of two minutes.

"I thought everything was 'fixed'."

"Everything but him." Later I would realize that this implied that Logan was something to be fixed. And maybe he was. I just hadn't made up my mind about him yet.

"I hate this." My mind rushed through all the possibilities that 'this' could be: me, me and him, the hardwood floor that he was intently staring at.

"You should! I'm sorry."

"You came here alone, to Philadelphia!"

"He was out of town."

"I don't deserve this, Rory."

"No, you don't. You don't deserve it. I'm just…I'm in love with him. Despite all the bad he's done, I can't help it, I'm in love with him." It was the sad truth. Somewhere along the line I had fallen in love with the rich, bad boy. The man standing in front of me was probably better in all ways: he was smart, could hold an intelligent conversation about literature, and was doing something he loved. Why couldn't I see that?

"Love, huh?" he had a crooked grin plastered on his face.

"Yeah."

"I guess I'll call Matthew – he's a poet – and have him explain love to me. Poets know all about it, right?"

"They're supposed to." And just like that, we were back at the beginning – making jokes with each other as if nothing had happened.

"I'm so sorry I came here." Even though I wasn't. It was nice to see him after all this time. It was nice seeing everything that he'd accomplished while I was busy partying and stealing yachts. Funny how things turn out.

"I'm not. It is what it is: you, me." We shared one last look before I turned to leave. The look conveyed so much, I doubt I could explain it – it's one of those things you have to see to completely understand. With one look, I knew we would be okay. We took turns hurting each other. It's just what we did. For awhile in the beginning, he was always the one hurting me. Now, I'm the one that's always hurting him. But we both knew in that one moment, that it was even. All the hurting had leveled out and we were even. We never really had good timing. The first time we were together, he wasn't ready. This time, I wasn't ready. Maybe in the future we'll both be in the right place at the right time and could finally be together. So much can happen in a couple of years – you never know how things are going to turn out.


	7. Chapter 7

"That's my final offer, man."

"Fine."

I had just finished trying to convince Jess into going to the Winter Carnival with me. That boy is impossible. It's kind of cute to know that the only reason he went to the Bid a Basket Festival and the Dance Marathon is because of me. We're on our way to the diner – his arm is slung around me. Even though I know I shouldn't, I begin to silently compare mine and Jess' relationship to the one I had with Dean. They're so different, yet similar at the same time. The boys are completely different: Dean is the textbook dependable boyfriend who would always be there for me and I never had to worry about anything. My mother liked him and even though my grandparents didn't like him, it was for a semi trivial reason. With Jess, it's the opposite. Mom's trying to give him a chance and look past all the bad things he's done because he makes me happy. I bet grandpa would like him – they could probably talk about books for hours. Grandma would never like him because of his "low social status" and his bleak looking future since he doesn't want to go to college.

Then there's the way they make me feel. With Dean, I knew we wouldn't be together forever. Sure, in the beginning I couldn't imagine my life without him and I thought he was perfect. Towards the middle of our relationship, though, I knew he wasn't "the one". I couldn't picture myself with him in twenty years raising sports playing children. Jess, however, I have no problem picturing a future with him. He challenges me and keeps me on my toes. Our kids would grow up with an incredible taste in books, movies and music. We would go to concerts, have non-traditional jobs that we love and never tire of each other's company. I smiled to myself thinking about all of this. Granted, all of this may change – you never know what can happen. But for this moment, everything was perfect.

Jess stepped slightly in front of me to open the diner door. We walk inside and he glances at me and smirks. "So, want some help with your homework?"


	8. Chapter 8

I think it says something about love when you can't go more than a few hours without involuntarily thinking about your significant other. Aside from the fact that I hate the term "significant other", I can't stop my mind from drifting to Jess. Now here's the problem: Dean is my boyfriend. Why do I spend all of this time thinking about Jess when I should be thinking about Dean – my boyfriend? I've been pondering this question for awhile now and I've come up with a pretty brilliant answer, if I do say so myself. It's because Jess is the new, shiny toy. Whenever kids get a new toy, they're immediately fascinated with it and must play with it for hours. However, once the novelty has worn off, they return back to their old, reliable and trusted toy. Mom would probably comment about how I'm comparing boys to toys (they rhyme, I can't help it) and if I stick with this simile then I'm effectively calling Dean old and reliable. You don't call boyfriends old and reliable. Those are terms used for cars and kitchen appliances.

Jess. He's anything but new and shiny…more like hot and steamy. Wait, what? I'll pretend that thought never happened. It doesn't help that I have to "tutor" him tonight. Why in the world would Luke think this is a good idea? I guess we'll see. Hopefully the novelty will wear off. Question is…do I want it to?


	9. Chapter 9

"Why can't you just call me to let me know you can't hang out and that you're working late? Is calling your girlfriend and keeping her informed so hard to do?" I was so angry. I thought we had resolved this issue, at least a little bit, after he took me to The Distillers. Apparently not.

"I'm not that kind of a guy, Rory, you know that. I'm not Dean!"

"I'm aware that you're not Dean! I just think it'd be nice not to wait HOURS for you to show up. It's a waste of my time! Keeping me informed of when you're free shouldn't be this hard."

"Well this is who I am. You keep trying to change me and I don't want to change. You knew what you were getting yourself into when we started this thing. " With that, he stormed off towards the diner. Did I mention we were arguing in the town square? Yeah, probably not the best idea.

I fumed as I walked back to the Crap Shack. I don't think I'm being unreasonable. It's common courtesy to let your girlfriend know that you won't be meeting up with her if you had plans. It's not a farfetched idea.

Bursting through the door, I came face to face with mom. By the look on her face, she had already heard the not-so-great news. Gossip about you travels fast when you're dating the town hoodlum.

"Oh babe, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure." We wandered to the couch and sat down. "I don't understand why he does this. How does he expect us to work if we don't communicate? How does he expect us to last?"

She had a solemn look in her eyes. "Hon, not all relationships are meant to last forever, even when you're in love. Some love stories are short stories."

Overwhelming sadness came over me. Jess and I weren't built to last forever. We just worked right now (kind of) and didn't have a good foundation for any kind of future. "Maybe I should just enjoy it while it lasts." Because who knew how long that would be.

A/N: A quote or two are taken from Greek.


	10. Chapter 10

I stood there with my cell phone in hand when reality came crashing down on me. _I think I may have loved you._ There's a huge difference between what you want and what you deserve. I wanted Jess so badly. I wanted him to come back, be with me, and for us to live happily ever after. Or if not happily ever after, since that doesn't really seem like his thing, at least happily for a little bit longer.

We weren't done. We may not have lasted much longer, but that doesn't mean I wanted to give up what little time we had left. I've never meshed with someone as well as I meshed with him. We shared a love of books, bad movies, and maybe for each other. When you find someone like that, you try and hang on as long as possible. It broke my heart knowing that I'd no longer get to walk around town with his arm around me. There would be no more heated debates about authors or arguing like an old married couple about what movie to watch and where to order take out from.

Missing him is like standing in the ocean. Every now and then there'd be a wave of gut-wrenching sadness that nearly knocks me over and I have to struggle to hold in the tears. Heartbreak isn't nearly as glamorous as it appears on TV. Usually the protagonist was sad for a day or so then would be swept off her feet by another gentleman caller and completely forget about her ex-beau. Reality isn't as well timed. I know that in time the waves will get smaller and further apart, but as of right now, I can't imagine being happy with someone else other than Jess.

Amidst all of this, I've come to the realization that while I want Jess oh-so-badly, he isn't what I deserve. I deserve someone who calls when he says he will and shows me in those little ways that he really wants to be with me. I don't think that's too much to ask. Ideally, Jess would come back and be that person, but I can't hope for that. I have to let go of the hope that he'll be the guy I want him to be. And that, my dear friends, is the toughest part of heartbreak – knowing that no matter how much you want it, he won't be that person.


End file.
